Stay heavy my diamond. Seek the ways you shine. Head where you once ,a little coal. Hear the echoes it told. Stop the spikes that grow. Hold on ,to your soul. You will realise in the end. The story that’s once yours.

Will you try one day to see?. The paths that waves through the sea. Shining through. Reflecting you. To see the diamond you can be. After all ,every diamond starts as a little coal.

So go through the forest and be. The sun that raise above the trees. Be the wing , that is guiding you. To be the sparkles, that the diamond would send. And go through the desert that leaves. The marks of the tales ,that once buried then . You can’t see ~but still you can feel. The tales that’s always have been yours.

Oh dear Diamond In the Rough you drive me crazy. I can’t stop laughing at your jokes or looking at your beauty. oh so shiny oh so pure. Such a pure soul that I can’t wait to ruin the purity of. I’m a Basalt rough and dark. Your a diamond smooth and shiny. My roughness in your diamond heart is the perfect combo. Oh I can’t wait to ruin your purity.

Anna Marie Stewart was said to be one of the richest, most spoiled brats in the world. That was, until, she met Jasper Knight.

Anna had everything she ever dreamed of. She lived in a huge house on top of a hill with her father, Gabriel, and her older brother, Theodore. She had a very good education, and she was tended to by her own personal maids.

But Anna wanted more. Ever since she was a little girl, she had loved the idea of going out into the world with her brother to fight off armies of men, protecting her kingdom. But you would’ve never guessed it with her father.

When she was two, she found one of Theodore’s practice swords. She was found playing with it in the training room, giggling and swinging it around like it was a toy. From that moment on, her father knew that he would have to do his very best to keep her away from the outside world.

Maybe he though she would be better protected if she was kept close to him. Only he would know.

I sighed in frustration as I watched my father talk to my teacher. I slumped against the rail with my chin on my hand as I watched Dad wave his hands around, his face turning increasingly red.

“You were specifically told to protect her, and you failed. You are FIRED!” He yelled. The poor old man standing in front of him winced.

I felt bad for Vincent (he’s my trainer), he only tried to help me because I asked. Now he’s getting fired. I sighed again.

“Trouble, miss?” A voice said behind me. I jumped and turned around to find a guy about my age slumped against the rail like I was. His dark hair was falling in his green eyes. For half a second there, I felt my self wanting to push it out of the way.

Ugh, stop, I thought. I cannot be doing this right now. I have more important things to do. Like finding Teddy and asking him for lessons.

I shook my head. “No I’m ok. Unless you know how to change someone’s entire personality.” He must have heard the sadness in my voice because he smiled at me sympathetically.

“Unfortunately not. If I did, I would. Old man Gabe is a menace.” He was now looking down at my dad, watching him yell at a maid for being in the way.

I stared at him in surprise. He looked about eighteen or nineteen. He was strong, and a string of tattoos going up his right arm. Now that I could see them up close, I could see the military symbol etched into the design.

If he was military, then my dad was his boss. Why would he say that in front of me, his daughter? Unless…unless he didn’t know it was me. That would be a relief.

I may sound like a spoiled brat, but being the kid of the richest person (other than the king) in the kingdom isn’t as glamorous as you might think. Literally everyone knew who I was. Which meant I couldn’t do normal things, like school.

You may be wondering how I was educated. I was homeschooled. A lot of people like Dukes kids and royals do it. They make it sound a lot more fun it books though.

Since the day I turned six, I had been tutored by all sorts of cruel people that my dad hired.

“Yeah. I’ve learned to ignore it. Life is so much easier when you don’t let him bother you.” I said. I was kinda surprised that I did. Even if he didn’t know who I was, I was still talking about my father.

“I wish. I can’t excactly not talk to my commander.” He was shaking his head.

The stranger looked like he was going to say something, but I heard someone call my name. I turned around to see my brother, Teddy, standing at the top of the stairwell.

I asked a passing servant what the time was and groaned. I was late for my German lesson. “Listen, as enlightening as this conversation was, I’m late for something. See ya!” I yelled the last part as I took of for the classroom.

German was boring. And hard to speak. My eyes were dry and my mind numb. I really hated these lessons. I gathered my books and walked out of the door. I jumped when my dad spoke.

“I trust you saw what happened,” His face was cold and unwavering. When I nodded, he continued. “I’ll assign you someone from my personal guard. You can trust him.” And with that, my father, the great royal Duke of Valoria, turned on his heel and left.

That kind of stung a little. I was expecting to be yelled at. At least he would be emotional. Entirely different from the icy expression he was just wearing.

I laughed when tears pricked my eyes. My relationship with my father had always been rocky. He never liked me from the start. Maybe it was cause I was never supposed to be here. Maybe because Mom died giving berth to me. It’s always a new reason with him.

It was early morning when a knock sounded at my door. I got up from my desk, wondering who it was. It wouldn’t be Teddy, he never woke up before noon.

I unlocked my bedroom door and opened it. I must’ve still been tired because when I saw who was behind it, I just stood there.

“You’re Anna Marie?!” The guy from yesterday exclaimed. He looked shocked, and I saw guilt flash across his face.

He cursed, bringing his hands up to cage his head. “I’m gonna be in so much trouble now aren’t I? Oh, hell. I didn’t mean anything I said I promise!” He looked terrified. Poor guy would’ve done anything I wanted.

I snapped out of my daze. “My name is Anna. Marie was my mothers name.” He nodded anxiously. “I’m assuming you’re who my father sent to protect me?” I asked. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to wake up.

“Yeah. Listen, about what I said yester—“ I interrupted him. “I will let you off on one condition.” So I was playing with him. I would never actually tell my dad. But the sword on his belt looked wicked.

“You have to teach how to use that.” I pointed at the weapon attached to his hip. He took a second to register my words and then his face fell.

I could tell he was struggling internally. In the end, I think his fear of my father won out. He nodded and I giggled in excitement.

“Can we go now? Do I get a sword? Can you teach me how to do the cool sword flippy thing?” Questions kept spilling from my mouth as I ran to grab my stuff.

He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me to a stop. The touch sent little sparks running through my body.

“Yes yes and no. What your talking about is only in retellings of story’s. It’s not a real move.” I grumbled and side eyed him. “Fine. But you at least have to teach me how to stab something.”

His eyes widened. Oh, if only he knew what he was getting himself into.

(Several months later)

“Stab! Keep your arms loose! Don’t look at the ground, look at me! The sword is meant to be a part of your arm. An extension.” Jasper was yelling out commands as he attacked me relentlessly. Sweat was making my auburn hair stick to my forehead, and I pushed it back. I stepped away from my friend and took a breath.

He looked at me sympathetically. “Go get some water and sit down for a minute. I know being treated like a princess is hard.” I shoved for that last comment and grabbed a cup of water from my bag.

I sank down on the wall and tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach as Jasper sat next to me.

Yes. I have a huge, massive crush my one of my best friends. It’s kind of hard not too. I’m with him almost twenty-four-seven. When were not training, he takes me to see everything that I’ve missed in my own kingdom.

My favorite day was probably at the old apple pie stand on the corner of Old Maple. The stand was run by an elderly woman. She was the sweetest person that I had ever met and her pies were even better.

I leaned against his shoulder and lifted my shirt up slightly. I could just see the edge of the burn that I got several weeks ago.

I had the bright idea that we should go into the rooms with the fires that warm up the house. Long story short, it ended up with me having a bad burn and Jasper getting a stern talking to about my well being.

I went to go change the bandage on it when Jasper caught my hands. He took the supplies away from me and carefully changed the gauze. He was leaning down to see it and his breath tickled my stomach.

When he looked up, my breath hitched. I wasn’t expecting it when he said my name. The look in his eyes made my heart tingle. He sat back up at eye level and I turned to look at him.

The light hit his eyes just right and I was entranced. I could have looked at his dark green eyes forever. Tension sparked in the air and I felt him lean closer.

He kissed me. It was soft and short, but it made me feel weak in the knees. If I had been standing, that would’ve changed really quick.

“Can we do that again?” He whispered. I nodded. My heart exploded. Everything about him was just right. From the way his smoky scent clung to everything he touched, the way his lips felt against mine. I knew there was no where I would rather be.

I had truly found a diamond in the rough.

Authors Note* So these characters come from one of my other story’s, Rebel. It’s a lot shorter and I feel like I kinda need to add some details to it. I really tried to lean into Anna Marie’s backstory with this one, I I would love to hear about how I did and if it worked well with the prompt. I also know that the prompt title says poetry, but in the description it said story, so this is what I have. Hope you all have a great day ❤️

[Yes, I know that the IMSA VP does not work like this. Yes, I have driven rally cars. Enjoy the story.]

You’re not _really_ a rally racer. Well, you could be, but it’s nothing like how it was in the 80’s. Too much safety. Not enough speed. It’s why you race for IMSA VP, where they have a million useless sponsors and’ll take anyone who wants a big silver trophy and can drive a fancy car.

Some people call it nominative determinism, but you just call it being born into the profession. Rally the sometimes-rally car driver. Fun name, even though everyone thinks you're lying when you introduce yourself, and when you get coffee, the barista always spells your name as “Raleigh.” But enough about you, more about your failed professional racing career.

Red Bull won’t take you. McLaren won’t take you. You’ve never gotten a chance to race a Mustang, no matter how much the muscle car aesthetic appeals to you. They say it’s because you’re not good enough for those big names- but oh, Rally, you know it’s them that ain’t good enough for you. These cars are like the pretty boys of the auto industry. _You_ drive indie. You don’t need a big name for people to pay attention. All you need is four wheels, duct tape, and a V8 engine.

Thing is, you’ve never had a navigator. No buddies, just you and your frankly absurd ability to drive stick. Maybe that’s one of the real reasons no brands have ever picked you up.

_Never did like working with others. Always did the least on group projects, you know?_

_Ma, none of them like me. None of ‘em wanna like me._

You move faster with nobody slowing you down, you tell yourself.

It’s at the Boston course when you finally(and forcefully) get paired with a navigator. His name’s Dallas, which is a little silly, because Dallas is a city in Texas, your hometown. You never thought it could be a name.

Dallas used to race for Ford, a car that looked like it was clad in silver armor with two pretty blue racer stripes running from the hood to the rear bumper. It was a Mustang GT4, he tells you, his dream car, ‘til he crashed the damn thing on a hairpin corner and Ford stopped paying him.

_I’ve never had a big sponsorship,_ you say, while you watch the other PR teams do promo shoots on the track as the sun goes down.

_You’ll get one sooner or later, _Dallas replies, flicking an ant off the guardrail._ You seem like a Yamaha kinda guy._

You laugh. _Is that a compliment?_

He smiles. _Depends on whether you ride motorcycles or play the piano._


You lose your first race together in a yellow GT3 Mustang with no pit crew. Then you lose the next, in Detroit. And the next. And the one after that. So far this season, you’ve only won four out of 10 races with two more to go. Compared to others, it really shouldn’t be that bad. Some drivers haven’t won _any_ races- Dallas tells you as such. 

_Hey. Listen. That Chevy driver hasn’t gotten past ninth place for the last six races. We’ll be alright._

_Dally, we don’t drive for Chevy._

You want to blame Dallas for each lost race, each third place begrudgingly accepted, each step not taken towards the championship at Daytona beach. You don’t talk to him, you won’t call your parents, you switch hotel rooms. You start to consider calling up a replacement driver, as sickening as that thought might be.


Then, you get a car swap. Ford, apparently, has had a change of heart.

You meet the Dark Horse in race 11. Two golden racer stripes, glimmering black paint- it’s the prettiest car you or Dallas have ever seen in your damn lives.

It's a battle consisting of aching muscles, Dallas yelling directions until the speakers in your helmet start clipping, and defending first position like the car was gonna explode if you fell behind. But when Dallas anticipates a turn that could’a given you whiplash if you had half a second less to react, you start to let yourself smile.


One day of celebration is all you get, a day filled with champagne and laughter and a nice hotel room. The next race is at the same course, so you're glad you and Dallas can revel in the liberty of not having to catch a 3 AM flight the next morning.


Now it’s tomorrow afternoon. You’ve just won race 12. Everyone is roaring praise around you as you cling to Dallas with your helmets pressed together, the smell of ruined, burnt tires sharp in your nose and the taste of salt on your tongue. You can’t tell if it’s sweat or tears.


It’s a two hour flight to Daytona.


But all you need is four wheels, a V8 engine, and a navigator whose name is a city in Texas.

(I am drawing inspiration from Aladdin)

A diamond is hard to find They are precious So you never expect They often lay in the dirt

In fact, diamonds are forged From rock and heat Under pressure They become their best

Some are evil Some are good Some are both I suppose some are none at all

Steal an apple You’re a thief Steal a kingdom You’re a statesman

A quote from someone Who thought they were the diamond And ended up Being nothing

Diamond Find him Not meant He’s spent

A little fixing Try mixing Sophistication And dedication

Once, in a bustling city teeming with merchants and travelers, there was a small, unassuming jewelry shop nestled in a narrow alley. The shop's windows were dusty, and the wooden sign that read "Davenport's Treasures" hung crookedly. Few people ventured inside, as the displays seemed filled with trinkets of little value—old rings, tarnished chains, and faded gemstones.

The shopkeeper, Mr. Davenport, was an elderly man with a kind face, but his eyes carried a hint of sadness. He had inherited the shop from his father, who had been a renowned jeweler. But over the years, the shop had lost its luster, and now it barely managed to stay open.

One gray morning, a young girl named Eliza wandered into the alley, drawn by the faint glimmer of a gemstone in the window. She was poor, with torn clothes and dirt-smudged cheeks, but her eyes sparkled with curiosity. Eliza had a knack for finding beauty in the most unexpected places, and something about this forgotten shop intrigued her.

As she stepped inside, the bell above the door jingled softly, and Mr. Davenport looked up from his counter. "Good morning, young miss," he greeted her warmly, despite her shabby appearance.

"Good morning, sir," Eliza replied with a shy smile. Her eyes roamed the cluttered shelves and displays, searching for the source of the glimmer that had caught her attention. Finally, in a dusty corner, she spotted a small, rough-looking stone, half-buried under a pile of old brooches.

"May I see that stone?" Eliza asked, pointing to it.

Mr. Davenport hesitated for a moment, then carefully picked up the stone and handed it to her. "It's just a piece of quartz, nothing special," he said, though there was a flicker of doubt in his voice.

Eliza held the stone up to the light, turning it this way and that. It was covered in dirt and grime, but she could see something beneath the surface—a faint, shimmering glow that hinted at something precious hidden within.

"I don't think this is just quartz," she murmured, more to herself than to Mr. Davenport. "There's something more to it."

The old jeweler watched her closely. "You have a good eye," he said softly. "Perhaps there's more to this stone than meets the eye."

Eliza's heart raced as she carefully cleaned the stone with a cloth. As the layers of dirt fell away, a dazzling light began to shine through. It wasn't quartz at all—it was a diamond, rough and uncut, but undeniably beautiful.

Mr. Davenport gasped in astonishment. "A diamond! How could I have missed it all these years?" he exclaimed.

Eliza handed the diamond back to him with a smile. "Sometimes, the most precious things are hidden in the most unlikely places," she said.

The discovery of the diamond breathed new life into Davenport's Treasures. News of the find spread quickly, and soon, people from all over the city came to see the diamond and browse the shop. Mr. Davenport's eyes no longer held sadness but sparkled with hope and joy.

As for Eliza, she became Mr. Davenport's apprentice, learning the art of jewelry-making and uncovering hidden treasures in the most unexpected places. And as she grew, so did the shop's reputation, until it became the most beloved jewelry store in the city, a place where people knew they might find a diamond in the rough.

The shop's crooked sign was straightened, the windows cleaned, and the displays filled with new treasures. But the diamond that Eliza had discovered remained the shop's centerpiece, a reminder that true beauty often lies beneath the surface, waiting for someone with a keen eye and a kind heart to uncover it.

The potential hiding in the cover, Break out or stay in different life; Diamond sit quietly in the stones, A person study quietly in the days; They all waiting for the time to come. Behind the shining there is loneliness, Behind the spotlight there are hardships. Come from the rough, Learn to be the prides.

Your past casts a shadow dark and tall, But are you alone or is that common to us all?

You think if someone finds out they will run, But why abandon a story that has barely begun?

Foolishly to everyone you start to compare Rating your self against others causes dispair

No one like you has ever done enough, But could you be that Diamond in the rough?

Maybe in my younger years I spent too much time setting myself aflame to give others warmth Or maybe it is just my nature to fuel others’ dreams But I am the coal in the engine of my life burning Always Burning I was today year old when I learned Diamonds are one carbon atom away from coal Pressed into beauty Blazed into brilliance Could the pressure of illness and caretaking Could the weight of my grief Crush me into something valuable From ash to gem A diamond from the rough